Aftermath
by Kaydance
Summary: It'a only a small step in the grand scheme of things… But Dr. Horrible would take this step with a smile and a skip. An evil skip. Because… you know, skipping can be evil and stuff.
1. Countdown

"Good morning, my loyal viewers… well, listeners, but not today… That is, you're listening, but… you know …yeah…" The doctor blinked sharply and plucked his goggles from the tabletop, only to set them back down.

"_Good morning_, my minions! …" Two blinks this time. "Minions? Who says minions? Come _on_, Billy, the word ends like _onions_. You're not going to command respect with onions!"

He stared blankly into the webcam, then to his image on the softly glowing screen (Billy noted that he should step outside later; he was getting pasty). His eyes finally fell to the words 'video' and 'audio' displayed off to the side of his digital image. Both words were red.

Billy spun in the computer chair, waiting for confidence to strike him.

Confidence avoided him.

With ten minutes until showtime, Billy left the new surveillance/blogging room and began pacing through rooms of his home: through a door, down a flight of stairs, into a twisty-turny maze of hallways, until he reached a cardboard box labeled 'Junk'. He peered gingerly inside.

An empty picture frame and a spork, still warm with the ghost of a memory.

That was it. That was all. But those objects haunted the far corners of his mind. He stared for what felt like a very long time.

"Good morning," he tried, keeping his gaze within the box. "Everyone… keep your heads up, because today's… a…." An urgent beeping noise sounded from his wrist and Billy jumped back in alarm, clawing his sleeve up his arm.

A watch, he had a watch, set to go off five minutes before airtime. There had been no need for the bug-eyes, or the jumping, or any of that pathetically… pathetic nonsense.

With a casual sniff and the rolling down of his sleeve, Billy returned to the surveillance room.

Other than the computer, chair and table, the room was empty… well, that was if one were to exclude the silent screens which covered the walls, blinking through scenes of streets, buildings, parks, so on and so forth.

His was an ambitious plan, but the timing was perfect. Once every ten years, the League provided its full backing for each member to prove his or herself. While the results had no "official" affect on one's standing within the League, a rating of Maniacal was rare; the last "person" to achieve this honor had been Bad Horse himself, when he invented high fructose corn syrup and implemented it into common foodstuffs.

Billy realized the gravity, and had spent the better part of his year and three fourths of membership planning for this moment. Hell, he had even dreamt up a few ideas beforehand. In only a matter of minutes, his year would begin.

Two minutes.

Billy slipped his hoody off, and the red lab coat on. He found his goggles and lowered them over his eyes. After all, a certain image needed to be projected.

One minute.

Sure, it was only Los Angeles, and only a small step in the grand scheme of things… But Dr. Horrible would take this step with a smile and a skip. An evil skip. Because… you know, skipping can be evil and stuff.

Dr. Horrible took his seat and clicked on the audio icon. It turned green.

"Good morning, one and all. I would like you to find a safe seat. Stop driving, stop walking, just sit still for a moment." His message sounded in the surgically implanted audio receiving devices across the city.

The evil paperwork alone took a year, even with the help of the League. The whole plan would be allowed to last for exactly one year following December 21, 2011 at 11:11 A.M.

Getting the implants "legalized" before D-Day had been tricky. More paperwork. Of course, his original plan had involved blatant mind control. It would have taken less time; it could have been implemented that very day and been effective. But the funny thing is that the human mind and body tend to rebel against that sort of thing. The people don't want it, and somewhere behind the delicate machinery, they _know_ they don't want it. So, every day for almost a year, he had spoken to the people, told them of the needed change, wished them a good morning and a good night. Some left, and got the implants removed. But many stayed, and those who did _wanted_ the social reform. They weren't brain-dead nothings; they were alive, and they knew that change was only a step away. Well… that excluded a few rogue heroes, but no plan is ever perfect.

Los Angeles had soon been declared a "threat to good" and special passes were needed to enter or leave. Said passes were impossible to obtain. Within a month, the city had been dropped from the state of California. But that was only the beginning.

Thirty seconds.

He checked the monitors, seeing cars parked, people in benches, people on the grass, people not moving. With a click of the video icon, Dr. Horrible smiled into the webcam, knowing that every resident of Los Angeles would be seeing his image, sent directly to their intricately wired brains.

"We don't get enough face-to-face with our leaders these days, whether the leaders themselves hide away behind a desk of lies, or the public just…avoids them." He gave a little smirk. "So, today, we all get to have a little visual time before the big moment."

Ten seconds. How slowly time moved when every millimoment was counted down.

"You've listened to me each day, but it's almost time to get to work. Change takes action, the moving of feet and minds, you can't just sit around, _whining_ at a _screen_." He waved his hands emphatically on the last word.

The frantic beeping started again. There was no visual difference, but he didn't need to _see_ just how different everything was, because he _knew_ that at that very moment, the nation, and, of course, let us not forget, the _world_ turned a blind eye to the goings on of the city of Los Angeles, No-Longer-Officially-In-California (or America, or the World, for that matter).

"Now, let's get busy. You have all been designated positions, and you know where to go. Those of you requiring… special equipment can come by Horrible Labs to pick it up." He paused. "And anyone in sector Z, henceforth to be referred to as The Weenies, those superheroes _stupid_ enough to stay, you are required to report to Horrible Labs for further, shall we say… _instruction_…" That smirk found him again and his hands folded together importantly.

Yes, he had only a year, but if the year was a success, then maybe the world would see the truth.

"Today…" Dr. Horrible pulled his goggles up to his forehead as his smile softened. "...is the start of a new life for this city. A better life. We'll all learn to cope together. It's a brand new day."

Dr. Horrible clicked off the visuals.

And he hadn't blinked. Not once.

………………………

**So… What did ya think? ((grins)) This was my first non-Hey Arnold fic! xD And I'm pretty fond of it… though there's probably some problems with it somewhere… It's late and all. But all in all, I'm pretty okay with it, especially since this is a story that doesn't need to be especially likely at all ((laughs not-so-evilly))  
**


	2. The Arming of the Hero

**And I thought that this story would just be a oneshot that I wrote out of boredom at 2 AM xD… Obviously, I plan to make a bit more out of it. Also, check out the song whose lyrics are below. Actually, I like the music more than the song… Well, anyway… here we go…**

**Chapter 2: The Arming of the Hero**

_**(Forty Days after the Lights Went Out)**_

_And it's been forty days  
I've tried forty ways  
You will never quite leave your sins behind  
They'll haunt you, taunt you until the day you die  
You will never really go  
You'll just think about it much but you'll need to know how the story ends,  
so you'll sit around, even though you should just go  
Tell your friends what you have heard, show them all the lies unlearned_

-- Streetlight Manifesto, "_Forty Days"_

…………………………………………

Where Dr. Horrible's blog was concerned, Sally was a long-time watcher (and one-time writer). He had been amusing, in the way that cartoon characters are amusing; they're a bit off-kilter, but harmless.

Harmless. Yeah. That's what he was. He had a few radical ideas, but he was harmless; a clown dancing on the computer screen. The man actually wanted change. How silly.

It had come as a shock when he got it… change, that is

It had come as more of a shock when he proved himself to be anything but harmless. Someone had died, a girl… He had killed her (the tabloids said so, the news channels said so, and Sally was pretty certain that the events had played out as such). Sally had been there that day, at shelter's opening ceremony, and for a moment, she had wondered if the girl had been the one who… probably never knew Dr. Horrible was alive. You know… _Her_. That unnamed _her_. She tried to ignore it, told herself she hadn't seen it, but there had been something in the Doctor's eyes when the flashbulbs lit the room an acid white…

And in the aftermath, the city crumbled within his fist.

But Sally had still been first in line for the audio-visual implants. She wasn't quite sure why.

Sally typed a few keystrokes into her computer and smiled as a HoverCam in Duly Park fell under her control. The things were all over the city, Dr. Horrible's floating eyes. And they were terribly easy to hack into. Maybe they were _horribly_ easy to hack into. The good doctor would just _love_ that anti-euphemism.

A man in a bright red coat was sitting on the ground in the park, leaning back against a bench. He was there every afternoon for a little over a month. In fact, the first time she noticed him there, he had been violently scrubbing one side of the bench. And no, Sally was not a stalker. Well… no, not really. She respected the man, on some level (he did essentially control L.A., after all), but a girl's gotta be careful. Watchful. Vigilant. Dr. Horrible was eccentric; it was necessary to keep an eye on him.

He was muttering something, but unfortunately, the HoverCams didn't pick up sound

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

Dr. Horrible pulled a notepad and pen from his coat and quickly began scribbling down what most would see as nonsense equations. Of course, nonsense was his specialty. It was his job to undo and reform the impossible.

The world was a mess.

Penny was…. gone.

His coat was accumulating grass stains.

All impossible problems, all with theoretical fixes, and all his to solve.

"Gamma times the square root of (one minus velocity squared over _c_ squared) quantity, divided by the fifth root of the Horrible constant (_patent pending_)…" He wrote quickly, afraid of losing the sudden burst of brilliance.

And some more scholarly people, those with PhD's in non-horrible things, might claim that multiplying gamma by the square root of the aforementioned quantity would be multiplying reciprocals, and would therefore result in one. But this was a _different_ gamma, a more _sinister_ gamma, the likes of which had never been seen before! Or maybe the equation made no sense and he needed some coffee... Either way...

With his equations scribbled down, Dr. Horrible returned the notepad and pen to some hidden pocket within his lab coat. Looking out over the park, he noticed a young mother with a toddler. She pulled the little boy onto her knee and pointed towards the doctor.

"That's Doctor Horrible," the mother cooed. "Wave to Doctor Horrible!"

And the child did just that as he grinned a little-boy-grin with chubby, little-boy-cheeks. Dr. Horrible found himself trapped in a mental conundrum. This… adoration… was difficult to become accustomed to. And how should he respond to this boy's cheerful wave? What reaction would command the respect an evil leader deserves, while not making a little kid cry? A smile? Too dorky… Evil smirk? … Somehow, that wouldn't look right. It would be a little too creepy, in a very, very bad way.

He straightened himself up and lowered his chin in a rather serious nod. Respectable, kid-friendly, and non-dorky. _Nailed it!_, he thought with satisfaction. The mother and son seemed satisfied too; the woman smiled, the boy giggled, and they returned to their playing.

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

The man in red nodded towards… something. Sally directed the camera towards the direction of his nod. The mother and son _smiled_ at him. The man was evil, a murderer, and they were smiling at him. It was absurd, preposterous, and downright mind-twistingly outrageous. But things were different in L.A.; there were no angels to be found in a city which failed to even exist.

The world was gone, or maybe it was L.A. that was gone. Towering metals walls bordered the city, keeping curious eyes out. It was a federal offense to even fly planes past those walls.

Sally leaned forward as a new person entered the camera's view. The man wore a parka, well _outsulated_, an ingenious invention to keep him in cool in the warm not-California winters. He carried an ice beam at his side.

Johnny Snow, a young hero with rather unorthodox methods. He liked lasers, rays, and beams, and spent a good bit of time building the things. The ice beam was his signature weapon, but he had been known to come up with non-ice-based weaponry.

Sally's fingertips rested motionless on the keyboard. "Snow White…."

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

"_**Dork**_tor _Horrible_."

"Uh… Wha—?" The Doctor looked up with a raised eyebrow.

"I called you a 'dorktor' 'cuz you're… Oh, never mind! This little plan of yours won't last! Do you honestly think that no one sees? That no one _hates_ you? That this…." He gestured towards the little family several yards away. "… is the norm?"

"Actually, yeah." He scratched under his chin and shrugged. "Look around. People here are happy. Just go back to your igloo-fort-thing. You're not even a real hero."

"That, my enemy, is where you're wrong." Johnny moved forward and dropped a paper onto Horrible's lap. "I was officially registered as a Hero of Los Angeles two weeks before the lights went off."

"Then please report to Horrible Labs for further instruction." His voice reflected a complete lack of interest.

"Do you think I'm _stupid_? I'm telling you that this is over. Your ultimate plan… you can't have the world!"

Dr. Horrible got to his feet and brushed off his coat. "There's really no other option; your designated sector is required to report to Horrible Labs. Actually, they should have reported to the Lab forty days ago. Insubordination… not exactly given a big thumbs up in this city, you know?" He gave a one-shouldered shrug. "And as for my plan, well, there are no heroes in this city."

Johnny raised his ice beam. "There're more than you think."

It was a quick, frighteningly practiced motion; the Doctor pulled a streamlined ray gun (labeled Hopefully Less Defective Death Ray) from one of his mysterious, hidden coat compartments, and pulled the trigger.

There was light and energy… and then, it was very quiet.

Dr. Horrible lowered the ray slowly. "And now, there's one less."

A small crowd of people who had gathered clapped enthusiastically.

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

Their mother had made them matching superhero costumes for their shared tenth birthday. He had wanted to be called Johnny Snow, but he called her Rose Red… So she joked that he was Snow White; he loved the winter, and she the summer. It fit so well. Plus, calling a slightly older brother by a girl's name never got old.

They had drifted after high school. Despite ending up in the same city, they rarely spoke, though she had recently received a letter from him…

Sally tried to tell herself that she really didn't mind…

And she tried herself that she would rather drink water than blood.

But all she could think was how she still had the small ray gun Johnny had made her for Christmas so many years ago… and that somewhere in the city, a resistance force, composed of superheroes, was forming. Her brother's last letter to her told her such.

And an adult version of her Rose Red costume was hidden beneath a trapdoor in the floorboards.

And it was red, red, _red_.

And they would match so well….

Why did they have to match?

………………………….

…**Yep. Crazy, huh? Poor, conflicted superhero girl. xD A few things to note: Snow White and Rose Red is a German fairytale unrelated to the Snow White story we know. **

**Time skips in this story will be random (from a few minutes to a few months). It will (should) encompass the entire years of Horrible's reign over LA. **

**Also, I hope you caught who Sally/Rose Red is. You should have caught it by the first sentence… Heh. **

**Also-also, Johnny's coat was "outsulated", not "insulated"…. Get it?... I think I'm clever. Lol. **

**Also-also-also… Where have I heard the term "acid white" used before? I know I've heard it before… and thought it sounded cool. xD**

**Thanks for reading! **


	3. LA Song

**Wherein we get a brief introduction to Horrible Labs, and the work of a young Billy-turned-Super Villain. **

**And the title is a song by Christian Kane. I was watching an Angel rerun and heard it. Yup. It kinda fits. **

**Chapter Three: L.A. Song**

_(Exactly six weeks after the lights went out)_

_.....................................  
_

The halls, walls, and floors of Horrible Labs were white, well-lit, and sterile in perfect, albeit cliché high-tech laboratory fashion. Dr. Horrible was proud of the building, which stood fifteen stories tall and housed what was probably the most revolutionary and radical research the world over… well, not the world, because legally, L.A. isn't, you know, in the world. But… whatever. Pride aside, the doctor spent as little time in the building as possible; he preferred the comfortable clutter of his own home laboratory.

"How's the food situation coming along?" Horrible gestured down a hall and Moist, who was walking alongside him, turned sharply.

"Oh, you know… better. Mass production of, umm… synthetic foods, it's getting along. Y—uhhh… mmm… _We_ really shoulda anticipated the whole no-one-will-import-food-to-us thing before seceding from everywhere."

They paused to look through the ceiling-to-floor windows which looked into the food lab. A small slice of the massive room was dedicated to a seemingly conventional greenhouse, while the rest was filled with Petri-dish-stacked freezers, giant vats filled with green ooze and gargantuan vegetables, and long rows of beeping machines.

Moist wiped the palms of his hands on his already dampening lab coat. "Are you sure you don't wanna take this job?" He started walking again. Horrible followed.

"No, no, no. You're plenty capable, Moist-ole-buddy. Besides, I have too many projects as it is." His shoulders dropped and he stared down the long hallway. "Where we going now?"

"Anywhere you want. I mean, this place is extreme. There are twelve people working just on grass stain removal."

Horrible opened his mouth to say something, but cleared his throat instead.

"Yeah, it's amazing. Who'da thought we'd reach this point? All of Los Angeles at our feet, Doc. It's just… wow…. So, umm, any questions?"

"What's our current homeless population?"

"Oh… I know this…" Moist dug a sheet of paper out his coat and struggled to read the running ink. "Looks like five percent. Sectors C and H are really doing a great job with getting the homeless the implants, getting them into homes, and assigning them sectors. This is turning out to be a real utopia, like in the stories and stuff."

"Good, good, and where do we stand on the whole hero…" He blinked. "…thing?"

Moist spoke quickly, nervously. "Yeah, about that, I made sure to get a new, updated list. The last one was from half a year before we took over, and yeah, majorly outdated, I know. I should have been on top of that. But this one's recent, and since no heroes could have registered since the lights went out, everything should be…"

"Moist! Just tell me the numbers."

"With recent eliminations, we're down from eighty-nine, to just sixteen licensed heroes. At this rate, we'll have 'em wiped out by next month! But Doc… Did you ever think that maybe there are unlicensed heroes out there? And with almost all of the villains having moved elsewhere, to find more non-utopia-like homes… well… it could be a problem."

"Ninety-eight percent of the city's population has the implants. It's not an issue."

"But…"

"It's _not_ an issue. Any counter-group would be too small to pose a threat... If we get rid of the heroes, we get rid of the problem. This theoretical counter-group would likely be following our remaining super-nothings, like sad little sheep, unwilling to forget their old order…Which reminds me… how's Mister Million working out?"

"Surprisingly well. I wasn't sure if I should let an ex-hero onboard, but he was completely excited about the position, and he did wait five weeks for evaluations and testing. Oh! Wanna see the Basement Experiments?"

Horrible stopped walking and shook his head slowly. "…No."

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

He went home, to his own home, which was anything but sterile. The floors were dusted with powder which could have been either a mixture of chemicals, or, maybe even dust. Shelves were covered with spinthariscopes, tesla coils, meteorites, fiber optics lights, and countless other gadgets, toys, and miscellaneous science objects.

Horrible searched through the halls with dedication and purpose.

And he searched behind cupboards, under desks, and in drawers.

And he looked under rugs, and dug through old files.

But at the end of the day, he was still left with an empty picture frame.

Of course, that was okay. He was fixing Los Angelus, and was less than a year away from fixing the world. Everything he had ever wanted, everything he had worked for, was within his grasp. There was no true government within the city limits, just a group of people who willingly followed his plan. But they had begun to lead themselves; they assigned sectors and followed their own visions. Sure, he would give directions which were expected to be followed, but Horrible still felt that he was a leader in only a very loose sense.

And his notebook equations were beginning to make a tad more sense. Sometimes, he would wake up at three in the morning, and see symbols in his alarm clock. He had begun keeping his notebook by his bed for that very purpose.

It was for Penny. Of course it was for Penny. Everything. _Always._

But it couldn't be like the Basement Experiments. The only B.E. he had bothered to look into was a drug introduced into the water supply which would automatically recognize impulses which leaned towards the counter-anarchy, and… destroy them. The results he had witnessed were far from pretty. The test subjects had fared worse than he would have expected. There were limits and rules, and it was a very fine line… but Horrible Labs were Moist's responsibility, not his. And besides, it upped the evil level for when he had to send his bimonthly report to the League.

Horrible moved sluggishly to the surveillance/blogging room and sat down at the computer, clicking on the audio. "Good evening, Los Angeles. It is now eleven fifteen PM, and I'm sure most of you are preparing for sleep. I just wanted to say… I'm so proud of what we've done. Everything we've accomplished. More has been done in this city in less than two months than has been done in the rest of the world in… like… ever! How awesome are _we_? You know what? There will be fireworks tomorrow night in Duly Park. I always loved blowing stuff up. I remember when I was five… eh… it's not important. Anyway. Duly Park. Tommorow. Nine PM. Be there. There _might_ be ice cream."

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

Somewhere in that bright, shining city, Sally cupped a hand to her ear, and forced herself not to smile at the prospect of ice cream and fireworks.

But she had a meeting to attend the next evening.

There would be no ice cream for her.

……………………………..

**Tell me what y'all think! This isn't the most eventful chapter, but I occasionally feel the need to post uneventful, sort of snoopy chapters, if you get what I mean. I think I need to learn to make the dates of the chapters further apart. Eh… time will start passing quicker later. Yeah. ((nods to self)) And do listen to that song if you hadn't heard it. When I listened to it a few weeks ago, I actually wondered for a moment if Whedon got inspiration for DH's final song from it. Well… it's just one line that made me think that… xD **


	4. Brand New Hero

**This chapter's title is a song by Reel Big Fish. I think the lyrics fit Billy more than Sally… (though it does work for her on some levels) but the title fits Sally just fine. **

**Also, I'm ridiculously proud of this chapter for one VERY silly reason. You'll see. xD**

**Chapter 4: Brand New Hero**

_(Not quite exactly six weeks and a day after the lights went out)_

_................................  
_

It was just past six in the evening. She had just finished her sector's daily project. On the television, a man with a rather comical name was talking about Horrible Labs' new Extra Potato, which was like a potato, but somehow better, like it had carrots in it or something. She wasn't exactly paying attention. There were only two channels broadcasting in L.A. anyway—one from Horrible Labs, and one which sector Q put on.

The meeting started at eight o'clock, and Sally was not stalling at all.

She stared at Johnny's letter for forty five-ish non-stalling minutes before deciding to hop in her car and follow the directions to wherever they may lead.

Johnny's letter had informed her of a small group of superheroes with plans to put an end to Dr. Horrible's plans for world domination. They needed all the help they could get. It all sounded well and good, but his directions left a lot to be desired. They caused her to circle at least twice, drive through rather shifty looking alleys, and park by a sidewalk where pretty much nothing looked like a secret hideout for the world's last shred of hope. She looked back to the directions.

_There is a section of sidewalk with a yellow spot of paint and a large crack. Insert two quarters._

Having no better plan, Sally complied. The rectangle of sidewalk opened for all of five seconds before snapping shut again.

"Hey…." She stared down at the cement in disbelief. "_Hey!_ You stole my money!"

A voice sounded from a nearby tree: "Please insert two quarters."

Sally's face fell. Secret entrances in the sidewalk and talking trees... This was either ridiculous or brilliant; she wasn't quite sure and didn't quite care. "I did! It just… closed too fast," she muttered awkwardly into empty space.

"Not our problem. Quarters, please."

Again, with no better plan, Sally complied, this time making sure to jump down immediately.

Sally was greeted by a grinning man in a tight tee-shirt. "Welcome, to the Command Center, headquarters for the Hammer Force. Care to see the Ham Jet?" He smiled haughtily and tipped her a wink.

The handsome Captain Hammer…

_(corporate tool)_

…the city's once-preeminent hero.

"No, no," he continued. "There'll be plenty of time for that later! You paid your dues, and my library fine, so we should go over the rules."

"Wait… don't you even care who I am?"

"First rule of Hammer Force, don't talk about Hammer Force… unless we're talking about Hammer Force, in which case, we talk about Hammer Force."

"I could be a villain, or a spy…"

"Second rule of Hammer Force: No geese."

"And that's about it," he said with a shrug. "We're not about rules, we're about The Mission, the mission to destroy that nerdy little… science guy with his beakers and… tongs. Don't trust him, never did. And that's why…"

A group of costumed people stomped rhythmically up a flight of stairs, all carrying hammers... and Sally could have sworn she heard music.

"_It's a hammered life for him!" _sang Captain Hammer.

"_It's a hammered life for him,"_ echoed the heroes.

"_We used to rule this town, y'know?"_

"_Used to get free stuff, fo' sho!"_

They hammered the walls in time with that music which played from God-knows-where. Sally stood stone-still, unblinking.

"_Gotta hide each and ev'ry day!"_

_"We're sick of it, we say!"_

"_So with our hammers, we'll…"_

They hit their hammers twice against the floorboards. Some heroes cart-wheeled and back-flipped.

"…_**beat**__ him dead!"_

"_Drive a nail right…"_

The hammering was repeated, but this time, long, dangerously pointed nails popped out from the ends of each hammer.

"…_through his head!"_

"_It's a hammered life!"_

Sally stared on in disbelief. "An Annie rip-off? Really? You're wasting time! Just stop!"

They did not stop.

"_Can't you see that this city's in ruin?"_

"_Don't you feel like no hope is in sight?"_

"_Well that jury's gonna be soon in."_

They all crossed their arms and Hammer grinned knowingly.

"_Oh, there's gonna be a fight!"_

"_That pesky nerd's gonna see the truth now."_

"_Everything'll be goin' our way."_

"_We swear we'll find a way how,"_

"_To teach him to do what we say!"_

"_Ohhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhh!"_

Sally soon found herself surrounded.

"_Take those clothes off, and see."_

They spun her between them, ripping off her long skirt and blouse to reveal the shorter red skirt , leggings, and superhero-ly tight shirt she was luckily wearing underneath.

"_How you become part of We!"_

"_Just how glad you'll be,"_

"_You'll save the world, by gee!"_

Rose Red turned to each person slowly. "Why did you just do that? That was completely uncalled for! I… I just…" She began to sing.

"_What if I wasn't wearing this?"_

"_I'd be terr-i-bly undressed!"_

Captain Hammer took over.

"_I don't think I'd mind,"_

"_If you showed your behind!"_

The hammering stopped. No one moved. Rose Red opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. There was an awkward moment of silence before the singing resumed.

"_It's a hammered life for him!"_

"_It's a hammered life for him!"_

"_That's right, we'll beat him dead!"  
_

"_Wouldn't want to be his head!"_

Two heroes grabbed Sally by her arms and dragged her up to a secondary exit.

_"It's a hammered life."_

_"It's a hammered life."_

_"It's a hammered life!"_

Cheering erupted in the distance as the sky exploded in light.

………………………….

**LOL! Of course, I claim no ownership to Annie, or any of its music. xD Did I take that a bit too far? I was going to just write a little of the song, but then… it pretty much became the whole chapter! I don't think I wrote lines for every line in the actual song, but it was close. Heh. **

**Anyhow… Why am I only capable of writing this story late at night? Reading over my chapters, I'm surprised they're as coherent as they are. xD!  
**


	5. Benign

**Chapter Five: Benign**

_(Four months after the lights went out)_

_....................................  
_

Sally checked the clock at the bottom of her monitor. Eleven A.M.

The Hammer Force was… different than she had expected. She had been given a Captain Hammer emblemized tee shirt, which she was to never wear outside of HQ, and a hammer with a retractable nail in one end. Captain Hammer himself rarely spoke of just _how_ he planned to bring down the Doctor, just that he had a plan, and that it would soon be underway. Those things in and of themselves weren't so bad though; it was the tasks she was given which really got to her.

After a long month of making coffee, the Hammer Force had noticed her technical and mechanical skills, and promoted her to the official Fixer of the Toaster. This toaster happened to break down every three days at ten in the morning, like clockwork. A clockwork toaster, as it were. It happened that the problems within this toaster were not typical toaster maladies. Oh, most definitely not. This particular toaster tended to explode on occasion. But Captain Hammer was adamant on keeping it; it was, apparently, a family heirloom. So, Fixer of the Toaster remained Sally's position for the entirety of the following month.

But that was then, when she was still new to the Force, when she was still earning Hammer's trust. Yes, she was more important now. Plus, she was the only member of the Force to have both an official Sector and the implants. Both would prove useful.

Sally slipped into a pair of flats and checked herself in the mirror. Her light brown hair and icy eyes were reminiscent of her brother's… and that just wouldn't do.

As any good undercover hero and non-stalker would, Sally kept a collection of wigs and contact lenses. For this particular mission, she would choose red hair and green eyes because… well… it seemed right.

She would work on the inside to end this plague on humanity.

A voice sounded in her ear: _"Good morning, everybody. Great, no I mean amazing news. The city of Los Angeles no longer has a homelessness problem. None. And the hero population has dropped to twelve registered individuals. If we continue this trend, we can do only good... Evil good, that is…"_

She would do what must be done; she would be the downfall of Doctor Horrible.

**o-O-o-O-o-O-o**

Twelve thirty meant his daily trip to Duly Park, where he would sit against, but never on, a certain bench and work on his equations, or maybe just take a nap in the sun. It was routine, and routine was comforting to the point of necessity.

The bench was familiar, and like routine, it was necessary, because it had a certain lingering spirit to it. More importantly, he had never been told to look on the bright side there, and he had never eaten frozen yogurt there; there were no conversations or detergent smells, and those were all good things. Very good things.

Nothing could ever be out of order, or in place… in the wrong place, that is… like a girl with red hair and red shoes, sitting on a very particular bench where no one ever sat, reading a blue-covered book.

"Hey! _Hey!_" He had quickened his pace without realizing it. The girl… her hair was both lighter and shorter close up. "Could you… well, kind of _not_ sit there?"

She closed her book and looked up. Nothing in her posture or expression suggested that she might even entertain the idea of moving.

"I mean… you don't have to move or anything, it's just that this bench is very important, but not that important, in fact it's not important at all, it's just a bench: wood, metal, and chewed gum underneath, and you can sit wherever you want, if you want to and _please_ just get up." His shoulders sagged as he blinked that nervous blink.

Her face suddenly brightened, though she made no effort to move. "You're Doctor Horrible!" She laughed awkwardly and rolled her eyes. "I mean of _course_ you're Doctor Horrible. The coat, the goggles… I used to watch your vlog, actually. You even answered one of my letters once… sort of. Sorry. What did you say? Something's important?"

Before the Doctor could continue his plea, a trio of Horribly attired, goggles-wearing individuals popped out from behind a tree and scurried up to him.

"C-could you sign this?" asked the one non-girl of the group.

Before Horrible could answer, he found a pen and a picture of himself had been shoved into his hands. "Yeah… sure."

There was a rush of excited giggles and jumping before the three had run off again.

Sally stared on, mouth slightly open. "Who the hell were they?"

"Groupies, I guess. That's the twenty-fifth photo I've signed for them. It's a little not normal… for me anyway." In the silence which followed, Dr. Horrible adjusted his goggles for several seconds.

With a very small sigh, Sally got to her feet and took a step away from the bench. "It's true, then? There aren't any homeless in the city?"

"Well, yeah. With all the people who left before everything started, there was plenty of housing. It was just a matter of tracking down those who were just too scared to come in themselves, convincing them to get the implants, and assigning a sector." A smile crept over his face before he continued. "I think the rest of the world could follow suit. Somewhat… stricter procedures might need to be followed, since significantly more people would be involved, and a much larger area, but it's doable."

"Oh…" Maybe she had wanted to question him, to contradict him, to rant and rave about the impossibilities of a one-man non-government. But she didn't. "Hey, are you really a doctor?"

…………

Half an hour later, they were laughing on the bridge which ran over the park's pond. "…and I got the mixture wrong again. Some guy in the lab told me my work was so awful that I'd end up with a PhD in horribleness. And I did. Not literally, but you know… 'Cuz I'm Doctor Horrible… yeah."

Sally smirked. "Yeah, people under-appreciating talents... I'm used to that. Have you ever had to fix the same toaster every third day for a month? Mhm. I have."

"The same… Wait, so you fix things? You're in sector Y-2, then?"

"Yes, and no—Sector U, teaching. But I can fix things, and have some computer knowledge."

"If you wanted to change sectors, there could be a place for you at Horrible Labs. Feel free to drop by anytime. My friend Moist runs the place..." An urgent beeping started and Horrible's eyes went wide. Seeing this, so did Sally's. "Oh, no, no, no," he said, pulling back one sleeve. "There's no bomb… not that there would be a bomb. It's just my watch. Gotta get used to that. And go. Right now. There's a thing and I'm late for it."

He turned and began a long step as though to run off, but instead turned back around, tilting his head questioningly. "What was your name, anyway?"

"…Sally," she responded simply.

"Sally, great, bye!" And off he went, leaving Sally standing on the bridge.

She stared down into the water. He was wrong, very wrong about so very much. And he had to be stopped. And this stopping had to go down soon. But maybe he _had_ done good, and not just the "evil" sort of good, whatever that was. Still, did any utopian societies really work out in the end? She had read enough stories to know they didn't. A small group always saw the truth and worked against the governing power which had been essentially controlling the minds of its people.

He was wrong. He had to be wrong… He had killed someone. No, two someones… No… there were more. He had cheerfully announced the murders of heroes at the hands of his followers… and himself.

She had a mission, a duty, a calling. She owed it to her fallen heroes, to her brother, to those people who unquestioningly followed anyone with a promise of a better tomorrow.

But still… perhaps she would pay Horrible Labs a visit.

………………......

**Sigh. Will these people ever figure anything out? Sally and Billy both seem to have some twisted logic. And yes, Sally described Billy as a plague on humanity. **

**Next chapter shall be fun to write. Anytime I have a story go over 5000 words, a creepy lil' dream sequence is pretty much required. I'm predictable like that. **


	6. Tier 0

**Creepy, weird, nonsensical dream sequence! .... **

**Now let us open with our dear Doctor Horrible, as he ponders his precious sciences.**

**Chapter Six: Tier 0**

(_Some_ _night, an unimportant interval of time after the lights went out_)

…………….

Parallel universes were all well and good, but when it came right down to it, they were useless. Time remained a straight line. He searched for her through countless vortexes, and came out alone each time. Parallel universes were just that—parallel. He would only open a door to another him, opening the door to his own very Pennyless world… and shutting it again.

He couldn't go back; the past and present didn't run alongside each other. But the past was _there_. He could see it, sharp as knives, when he closed his eyes.

Light engulfed the space between the horizontal metal bars, swirling and pulsing, blinding had it not been for his goggles.

And the world he saw was just as empty as each and every one before it.

He didn't believe in fate, didn't believe that things happened for a reason, and that the past couldn't be undone… that some things, no matter how many possible scenarios could be run through, would always, each and every single time turn out _exactly _the same.

He pulled a lever and that bright, empty world fizzled and was gone.

Penny was out there, somewhere. For something to just stop, fully and completely, when it (when _she_) remained so fresh in his mind was illogical to say the least.

Every moment, every step untaken, and every mistake made; he could hear them, constant as the humming of his lab, as he folded his arms over the table and laid his head down. Oh yes, he could hear them, clear as day, and clearer still as the world melted away behind his drooping eyelids.

……………

Billy dipped a spork into the washing machine, scooping out a dollop of frozen yogurt. It was melting, as was probably to be expected under such conditions. It wasn't as though the washing machine could keep the yogurt frozen, after all. He spotted an older man and tapped his shoulder tentatively. "Sir…? My frozen yogurt is melting…Is there any ice, anywhere?" That wasn't right; the words were too soft and too non-pre-world-leader-esque. But whatever. Ice was needed to save the yogurt; that was all that mattered.

The man gestured to a door. Billy nodded his thanks.

The door led to stairs, and a cool gust whispered from the dimly lit space below. Billy pulled his hood over his head and began his descent. Downward he trekked, to the basement level.

The floor was cluttered with mechanical bits, pieces, and a thin film of dust. A pale arm snaked around his neck and there was a light pressure on the opposite shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you…"

Billy's head whipped towards the voice, towards the chin nestled comfortably over his shoulder.

"…_Doctor Horrible._"

"No…. it's… Bil—" His hoody was gone, replaced with that deep red lab coat and all the baggage carried along with it. "…Penny? You're… okay?"

"Aren't you acting strange? Did you pull another all-nighter?"

"I… yeah. Must be tired with all the, you know, science." The arm around his neck pulled in tighter. "You're really alright then?"

"Of course I am. You saved me. And this world. My god, have you seen it?"

_He was at a podium. The crowd cheered. No clouds. Sunny skies. Green grass on both sides. One side. _

Closing his eyes, he let his head rest against Penny's.

…_**Everything**__ he ever…_

"Why'd you do it, Doctor Horrible?"

Penny was gone and a woman with long dark hair and sunglasses stood before him, pointing an old-fashioned camera, ready to fire.

"Just kidding." She tossed the camera into the rows of folding chairs. "I don't do this anymore."

Dr. Horrible held up a small bowl of quickly melting frozen yogurt. "I just came down here for ice."

Sunglasses Woman held up an identical bowl of very much so frozen yogurt. She breathed out a white fog. "What do you need that for? It's freezing down here."

There was a moment of silence. "I can't feel it."

She smirked at him. "You wouldn't."

Dr. Horrible stood motionless as she brushed past him, stopping at the side of a glass coffin. She laid a hand on the coffin before speaking. "Fairytales always have a happy ending. Sickening, isn't it? And unrealistic at that."

"This one didn't."

"Everything moves forward, within and without you. Gotta find a flow, and look around. Don't forget there's a world out there, ready for those walls to come down. Never forget that."

The Doctor stepped up to the coffin and began wiping frost from its surface.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Sunglasses Woman in a mocking sing-song.

Clearing the frost away made visible words written in exhaled moisture on the inside of the coffin.

'_You killed Snow White!'_

And there, in the coffin, was Penny, wearing (_a parka/ her blue skirt and vest with the little birds/ Snow White's gown_) the paisley blue dress she had died in. Horrible searched for a clasp, lever, button, anything to open lid, but none were to be found.

When he looked back to Sunglasses Woman, her hair was different… maybe lighter, and she wore a red trench dress. Most importantly, her sunglasses were gone and her eyes kept changing colors (which was unsurprising, really, since things down in the basement seemed to have a habit of doing that). "Great. What am I supposed to call you now?"

"Hm?" Obviously, she did not understand.

"It's dark in here and you had sunglasses on. They were important." He tilted his head back towards the ceiling. "Forget it. I don't have time for this cryptic nonsense and things that keep… changing. And your claiming it's cold down here when it's obviously not. Hypothermia is always a possibility, but then how would you explain the yogurt? It's still melting." He once again held up the conveniently reappearing cup. "And there's still more upstairs in my… washer… for some reason… I guess… Maybe it was dirty, I don't _know_, but I just need ice!"

"Why are you so worried about yogurt when that girl is just lying there?"

Horrible blinked. "I thought the yogurt was a… metaphor…? Either way, it's fine. I'm close to a real breakthrough. She's sleeping and it's fine."

"She's dead but… Ugh, whatever. Just go."

"Go… where?"

"Listen." Non-Sunglasses Woman stomped down on the floor. A faint echo sounded in response. "See? There's another level below." She caught his gaze. "By the way, aren't you going to be the knight in shining armor… and rescue the maiden?"

And suddenly, Horrible once again found himself on a flight of stairs.

It was cold down there and he could _feel_ it, even through the hood which was pulled tight around his face.

The air smelled like laundry and the railing was sticky-slick with ice. The final floor was bright white and there were rooms like cells lining the walls.

"Billy?" Penny's voice. She had found him; she had woken up, followed, and beat him down the stairs. "Billy-buddy…?" But her voice had a mechanical undertone and before Billy could look for her, before he could even think, the walls broke into piercing shrieks.

And in those screams, Billy thought he recognized another, very human voice… but he wasn't quite sure. He didn't quite care.

"_Penny!_" As he raced across the floor, the lights went out.

And the laundry smell was gone.

And the screaming stopped.

And the sun had come up

And his neck was sore.

It was 10:30 AM.

Dr. Horrible left his lab and circled his home in search of the still-missing photo before sitting down in the blogging/surveillance room. He took a deep breath, smiled to himself, tried a quick maniacal laugh, and clicked the audio on.

"Good morning Los Angeles. Hope you slept well."

………………………………..

**Yup. That was a strange little trip. xD And I didn't write any of it after midnight… except for my favorite part (the metaphor bit). What was the point, you ask? Well… I'm not quite sure. But there are some semi-important things in here. **

**Billy never collected his ice. All that time and nada. ((shrugs)) **

**Yes, Sunglasses Woman was Sally. And the "knight in shining armor" line is a quote from an anime called Big O. **

**And I wish the last level weren't so short, but I don't think it would work well longer.  
**


	7. Everything's Fine

**Chapter Seven: Everything's Fine**

_(Six Months after the Lights Went Out)_

………_**..**_

As time passed, things began to settle into place for Sally. The Hammer Force actually began to feel like an extended family. She spent most of her non-sector time with them, and even participated in the occasional musical numbers (and how she knew the words and choreography… well, maybe it was like freakishly synchronized improv. No one questioned it).

It was where she belonged and all was well.

Maybe her tasks were not quite as complicated as she might have liked, but they were better than the spontaneously-exploding-toaster-repair jobs of yore. Communicators, probably to some other undercover hero group, were built and spying was done.

The possibility of working for Horrible Labs had put Sally on her toes until she brought it up to Captain Hammer, who was more than encouraging.

"_Oh! You can find what makes the place tick, and _smash_ it, or maybe expose it to bees... And take some of those neat walking camera-plant do-dads. Gifts from some guy with screw-drivers for fingers. Very scary,"_ he had said… and the discussion digressed from there.

So, the Lab was visited, paperwork was signed, and plants were passed out (Moist even promised to drop one off at Dr. Horrible's), until finally her first official day of work arrived.

……**O-x-o-x-O……**

Sally checked the contraption from all angles. It blinked, whirred, and occasionally whistled. Tubes ran from a vat of green ooze, to the bulk of the machine, and disappeared beneath the floor. Her attention switched to the damp man at her side. "So…"

Moist patted the machine fondly. "This baby takes refined wastes and converts it to fuel. For now, you'll be keeping it running, maybe working on improving efficiency."

Sally tensed, just a little. "Does it explode?"

"Huh?"

"Like a toaster…" And there was a sudden feeling of overwhelming double-dumb, a feeling which even _sounded_ stupid. A change of subject was needed. "Erm, what's with the… moist…ness? Why not live somewhere cold? Would that even help? How about outsulation? Is it a super-power? Can you _turn up_ the moist? Did you choose the name? Should you _really_ be near so many wires?"

Moist was giving her a look. The change of subject had failed. Never before had she so wanted to cram her own foot in her mouth. Why, oh why did she have to spend so much time stalking that Horrible fellow? As a side-hobby, checking cameras and whatnot, sure. Actually talking to the guy …well, it didn't help anything. Except maybe The Greater Good, or whatever. And Sally then realized she was standing in complete silence after asking a string of completely unanswered questions, and it was all very uncomfortable. Suddenly, she recognized a familiar face heading towards the door. "Mister Million!" she exclaimed, stepping into quick-pace.

The ex-hero paused and did a double take. "…Rosy? Never thought I'd run into Joh—"

She cut him off there. Every attempt at avoiding awkwardness was failing terribly. "Yeah it was great seeing you too, M&Ms." With a quick smile she slinked back to the waste-conversion machine.

Moist's expression hadn't changed much. "Well… good luck. I'll be around." With that, he was out the door and punching a number into his special Grippy Phone.

……**O-x-o-x-O……**

Dr. Horrible considered ignoring the phone. He had more important things to do than chat, after all.

But after five rings, he stopped working.

After ten rings, he sat down beside the phone… and stared at it.

And after fifteen rings, he finally caved.

"Hello?"

"_Doc! I guess you're up to the same ole game again, eh?_"

"Huh? Oh, right, yeah… I guess. What's up?"

"_As long as you're still at the science, you really oughtta come help out The Labs, don'tcha think_?"

"Moist, I really don't think I can. I mean I've got my stuff, and you're doing fine."

"_Your stuff... Are you alright? And what about the League's rating? We're sending in another report soon…_"

"I'm fine, and you guys have the rating covered. Besides, I have over two million people under my control. What other villain has done that?"

"_I know, but those walls come down in half a year. We have to be ready, you know, with a phase two and all that jazz_."

"I have plans, Moist."

"_Then you gotta help us out over here_."

"I'm hanging up now."

"_And about the girl you sent over_…"

As promised, Dr. Horrible hung up.

……**O-x-o-x-O……**

When dinnertime rolled around, Sally found herself at what was once the superhero residential district. By force of habit (and not knowing how to get in any other way) she dropped two quarters into a crack in the sidewalk and jumped down.

For the second time that day, she was greeted by an unexpectedly familiar face. Or rather, three faces: the Horrible Groupies, sitting around a card table… only they were wearing Hammer Shirts.

Sally pointed a shaking hand at them. "People! There are people! _Captain Hammer!_ There are _people _in here!"

Hammer's voice could be heard from another room, probably wrapping up another conversation. "_Yeah... Completely…Nothin' more to it... That's what I thought."_

He appeared a moment later. "Fear not, Rose Red, _by the way wear your costume here, it helps with the heroics, changing rooms are down a floor_, these people are with me!"

"But… I thought they were Doctor Horrible's little fanclub…"

One of the fan-girls shot Sally an especially pointed glare. "We do _not_ jump fandoms." She and the other groupies then looked hammer from top to bottom and turned to eachother, smiling inwardly.

"Very true. These fine folks have been doing more of the outside spying. Peripheral. Big picture stuff. Horrible never would have even thought to suspect these guys. You, Rosy, learn the inner workings. And thus, the whole picture is formed." He tapped the side of his head and nodded. "Now that that's been all talked over, it's time for dinner!"

…………….

There was a newcomer at the dinner-table, wearing all yellow, but no costume.

"Who's this?" asked the groupies in unison.

"This, my fine Force, is Cornhole."

"Actually, it's Captain Corn," retorted the new hero.

"Maybe it was, but this ship already has a captain."

Sally direly wanted to ask about the whole corn thing, and yet did _not_ want to fall into another Moist situation. "Why corn?" Oh well.

Cornhole(as would inevitably become his name)'s face brightened. "It's a very tragic story. I loved corn as a kid. So I ate a lot of it. All my life, I ate corn. Turns out it was genetically modified or something and _**BAM!**_ I wake up one morning with superpowers!"

"…From corn?"

"That and the high-fructose corn syrup mighta sped things up. But that's just corn in awesome form."

And the question which begged to be asked. "What powers do you get from corn?"

"Oh, you know, the regular corn-things. Talk to corn, photosynthesis, smell like corn, taste like corn…and control crows. That one was a little of a surprise. And the eye-lasers. Those are cool."

"Huh… Well, welcome aboard. You'll love it here." Sally stared down at the corn-on-the-cob on her dinner plate.

She ate a roll instead.

……………..

**Yeah… Another boredom chapter was necessary, mainly because the next chapter is what I consider the beginning of the end. Not that the story will be over after it. It's just one of the points I came up with when thinking towards the ending… and the chapter after the chapter after it. That one's important. xD**

**Also, if you're wondering what's up with the corn guy… I was watching the Colbert Report a few weeks ago… and Colbert mentioned hoping to eat enough genetically modified corn to get superpowers. He's awesome. End of story.**


	8. Easily Forgotten

**Chapter Eight: Easily Forgotten**

_I think today, I'll forget… for whom it is I play._

_(Eight months after the lights went out)_

………………**..**

Okay, so maybe his villainous deeds hadn't been on par with the menace of his peers; he hadn't exactly stricken fear into the heart of his city…

Maybe he hadn't been making his arch enemy, Captain Hammer's life miserable.

And maybe he personally should be more concerned about his rating with the E.L.E.

But for all he knew, his clean-up crew had already taken care of Hammer.

And who was going to prove a better villain he, Dr. Horrible? The infamous super-suck-up Fake Thomas Jefferson and his "Multipack for Use by Bad Horse"? Pssht. Right.

Above all, there was a world in need of change and an invention in need of perfecting.

Pushing his thoughts aside, Dr. Horrible turned his attention to his Trans-universe machine.

Pure time travel had been his first attempt, but after multiple trials, he learned just how difficult it was to get his invention to read time-space coordinates. It would either open a completely _wrong_ location/time (including one awkward meeting with Krononauts), or the portal would destabilize instantly.

He then decided to give parallel universes a go. The equations had taken a while to get right, but the machine was a real accomplishment. Quantum particles were strange things, in that they could exist in two places at once. By observing a particle, the invention would lock in on the particle's "other self", thereby splitting the universe and creating a portal to this new world.

What frustrated him on these lines was…well… not much was different. Everything happening before that point had remained the same (he had conversed with enough of his parallel selves to know as much).

Feeling more than a little claustrophobic, Horrible decided to think his equations over at the park.

**O-o-.-o-O**

The sun was high and the birds were cutting arcs against the clouds… but something was off.

The spy-plants had been removed from Horrible Labs. Sure, the Doctor kept his, but something about the whole thing put Sally on edge.

And the HoverCam which had followed her from the pastry shop to the park certainly wasn't helping things. The thing did fly off once she reached the park, but the uneasiness remained.

As Sally made her way through the gates of Duly Park, she saw something, the unsettling-levels of which put the rest of the day to shame. Dr. Horrible was actually _not _sitting on the ground, mumbling to himself like a crazy person. No, he was mumbling to himself on the bench, like a slightly less crazy person.

"Hey! What's with all the sitting on the bench today?" She grinned, plopping down beside him.

"I… Oh." Horrible looked from the spot on the ground where he normally sat, to the girl at his side. "Huh."

"Yeah. This is a little… weird." A pause. "Wanna cupcake?" In a quick, jerky motion, she pushed a box of baked goods towards him.

"No, no, no. I don't want to get crumbs and icing smeared all over my notebook." He offered a quick smile and went back to scribbling down numbers.

Sally set the box onto the ground, and if she sighed, she didn't remember, and wouldn't be able to explain it. "Same old equations?"

"Yeah. I think the Past Portal fails because of some paradox thing… It doesn't want me to see myself where I wasn't before. And it doesn't hold up well, even when I don't end up where I ever was… at that time. Funny thing, though, nothing happens when I and one of my parallel selves both open a portal. I guess since we both expected it. Maybe if I…"

Every single thing he did seemed to revolve around his time travel and parallel world inventions. There was no speak of brain-washing, mass-murder, or really anything especially evil. Her updates to the Force were painfully uninteresting, and honestly, the entire situation was beginning to make her feel guilty.

But just a little.

Really.

When her own thoughts lost focus (or rather, gained a focus she didn't much care for), Sally drifted back into the not-quite conversation. "Wait… sorry, what are looking for, or trying to find out, or whatever?"

Horrible was quite taken aback. Honestly, he hadn't expected the question, and for a moment, the answer was, quite simply, not there. He adjusted his goggles to buy time. "I'm looking for…" He blinked that awkward double-blink, and lied… kind of. "…a photograph." That one photo was still missing after all.

"A photograph? What's that have to do with time travel?"

"Not a lot… err… well, it makes the process… easier…"

"Right... Well, retrace your steps."

Horrible scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Maybe if I was trying to find a lost shoe and not combing multiple universes for… a photograph."

"What I mean is—wait, are you sure you're actually looking for a photo? Really? Just a photo?"

He looked up nervously, laughed, and rushed his answer almost beyond comprehension. "Definitely, it's not a metaphor, or a kinda half-truth, or melting yogurt, or anything." A nervous breath and twitchy smile. "What were you saying?"

Sally blinked the quick-speak away and continued her explanation. "You can't search blindly for something… even if you feel like it should be there. Retracing your steps… it's like rewinding a VHS tape. It's tedious to watch, but you find the scene you need."

At that moment, something in the doctor's mind clicked. His eyes lit up and he launched himself at Sally, catching her in a crushing bear-hug.

(_And she smelled a little like fresh laundry and a little like lemon cupcakes_).

Sally took a gasping breath and found herself surprised at how suddenly she relaxed.

(_Even though he smelled like Bunsen burners and countless hours toiling in college chemistry labs)_.

Horrible pulled away and hopped to his feet. "Thank you! Brilliant! Absolutely… have to run… again. I always do that… Oh well!" He tucked his notebook under one arm and ran off, almost skipping, really.

Sally got to her feet. "What was that about?" she laughed, shouting after him.

He was already gone.

And Sally stood very still, long after her laughter faded and a fresh wave of guilt passed.

She stood very still indeed, until a hand clamped onto her shoulder.

"Rosy Red…" Captain Hammer's voice smiled into her ear. "Will you _beat_ your lover dead?"

………………**..**

**And that, my readers, is the entire reason I named Sally "Rose Red". What Hammer said at the end is a quote from Snow White and Rose Red… Well, it's a quote from a particular translation. And the context is different… and some translations have "don't beat..." instead of "will you beat…" and I did consider changing the wording a little, but I liked this wording and it worked and I'm ranting. xD**

**I should add that (I think) Krononauts were people who attempted to create an event to attract time travelers. **

**Also, the next chapter will be extra-short… or normal-short. I don't know… but I do intend to finish this story by the end of August!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Morality

**Chapter Nine: Morality**

_(The following moment…)_

_**.........................**  
_

Sally turned to face Hammer, who was dressed uncharacteristically in a sweater-vest and khakis. He was cramming a cupcake in his mouth and somehow managing to look impatient (_angry and disgusted_).

Or maybe he was just eating a cupcake.

_Her_ cupcake. She had paid extra for a custom design, for the tiny icing goggles and sugar-glass beakers. And it was silly, but she was just being creative in her spying duties. First rule: know thy enemy… and buy special cupcakes.

Hammer didn't notice… or he didn't seem to. But what he had said…

"Uh… Will I…" Sally had no intention of finishing the sentence.

Captain Hammer tossed the empty box down and grinned down at Sally. "This'll be easy, huh? Evil or not, every villain has one of those fatal flaw…things. Horrible, well, he doesn't see things while they're happening." He shook his head and laughed.

They went back to the Command Center after that, and Hammer explained the course of action. Dr. Horrible had to go down before those walls did. They had four months, and Sally would lead the attack (apparently Hammer had to "man the fort"). She would have back-up and her choice of ray, since it was her brother who designed most of the Force's arsenal.

The rays… they were far more advanced than her old gun. They stunned, killed, froze, dematerialized, teleported, and steamed. Just what did she want to do to the man?

Sally left with a large, weaponry-stuffed duffel bag and was thankful the HoverCams weren't patrolling.

And that night, she sat in her kitchen with a near-cold cup of coffee. She missed her teaching position. Those text books, they were so familiar, and even if it wasn't her dream career, for reciting facts and making circuits, the children thought her to be brilliant.

Those who can, do…

She smiled into her cup. Was she really feeling nostalgic over a job she had barely quit two months ago? Besides, she had been placed into a better sector… not that she'd ever be able to set foot in Horrible Labs again. Plus, not meeting her weekly hours would mean having to miss designated shopping days. Every other Monday was food, the second Saturday of each month was for clothes, and first and last Wednesdays were for miscellaneous items to be disclosed before those days. And they would notice if she was gone. An excuse could be made, sure, but all excuses, regardless of sector, had to be verified by Horrible Labs, which was just where she would not be able to go.

Sally laughed. Just what was she worrying over? Things were about to change. It had become her duty to return power to the hands of someone who didn't…

(_eliminate hunger, smile-blink-and-twitch, wish her (everyone) a good morning and night)_

…kill coldly and indiscriminately, have aspirations of global conquest, and call himself Horrible.

_Will you beat your lover dead?_

It wasn't about love; it was about right and wrong. And she didn't _love_ Big Brother, or Big Brother's murderer, or whoever would be staring down the other end of her gun.

A digital clock on the counter glowed 11:08 PM and Sally desperately wanted to rip those fucking implants right out of her head.

**O-o-.-o-O**

Dr. Horrible spent the rest of the night finishing his plans. The girl from the park had made a good point: retrace your steps. Well, maybe it was bad advice when it came to actually finding a lost thing, but where his portal problems were concerned, the advice was perfect. Instead of trying to get the time travel machine to read a certain time and location, he reconfigured it to rewind every moment of whatever location it was set up in.

He had considered the implication of dragging Penny out of the past, what might change, how he might lose his city, and the possibility of his world. Everything he wanted… it was all was so close. Nothing could be jeopardized.

So he found a way to rewind a parallel universe. That world would have to learn to deal without her. He had certainly gone long enough.

But the problems continued. It would take too long to rewind roughly four years; the regression would have to pass quickly at first. Mixing in altered freeze ray technology, time would dilate at some point, near when he and Penny had known each other.

Hopefully his parallel past self wouldn't be there. Horrible wasn't quite sure how that scenario would play out. And just what would happen _after_ removing Penny was even harder to envision. Plucking a girl from a frozen-in-time past would be easy. Explaining why she had a stone in the cemetery would be a different story all together.

But it was a story he could worry about later. Much later. But not too much later.

The night melted away, and so did the next morning, and maybe mornings and nights after that.

The Doctor left his lab only for brief periods: most frequently for morning and nightly updates to the city. The habit was so deeply engrained, it just couldn't be broken. Not for Penny. Not for anything.

Some nights, Horrible thought he heard skittering across the floor, and sometimes, he would find spots of dirt dotting the wood. But those things were all very unimportant.

The invention was finished on a Wednesday, and set up in the abandoned Laundromat (there were more efficient methods to cleaning now, after all). Horrible opened the portal and left a HoverCam floating nearby, to eliminate the need for constant check-ups.

And so, two cameras, one in a laundromat and the other in a mad-scientist-designed home, were carefully monitored. As time ticked by, the two people who viewed those two cameras would surely agree on at least one thing: Soon, everything would be going, well...

_Horribly._

**…………………………****.**

**Muahahaha . . . ? Yay for kinda-double-meanings. xD And, of course, the Big Brother thing is a reference to George Orwell's 1984… I should reread it sometime. Mhm.**

**Also, a note of self-triumph: I finally remembered that "each other" is two words! Victory! … Though if I'm ever in a position to change the dictionary… **


	10. This World is Made of

**Chapter Ten: This World is Made of…**

_(Ten Months after the Lights Went Out)_

_Same game. New Player. No Side._

**………………**

An empty laundromat. A man in a red lab coat, locking the door. People bustling in and out.

Dr. Horrible watched the screen for hours. Swiveling around in his computer chair, he had to admit that the Laundro-screen was, by the fifth hour, coma-inducingly boring. His attention occasionally switched to the surveillance room's other screens… but all was quiet that night. People slept and woke almost in unison. It was a little scary.

Maybe not scary, since he had…_programmed them?_ No, he _suggested_ they keep similar hours. And similar schedules. People spent so long worrying about the order of the day, and when they'd buy this, and when they buy that, and whether or not there would be time to sleep at night. They spent more time _worrying_ than _doing_. He had simply fixed the problem. So "scary" was definitely not the word for it.

Horrible paced up and down the hall for several minutes, pausing in the living room. His answering machine was blinking with unanswered messages, probably from Moist… since no one else knew his number. Well, the fan-club-stalker-people had called once, but they were the only exception.

Horrible rocked back on his heels. "Moist worries too much," he muttered to himself. But there was one thing Moist was right about: people had to be prepared for… anything. Only a couple sectors were trained in combatant skills, and with only four registered heroes remaining, their work was winding down.

With that thought, he turned back to the surveillance/blogging room, sat down at the computer, clicked on the implants' audio icon, and began describing, in detail, the workings and execution of ray guns. And when he could think of nothing else to say, he synced the video function with an old self-defense video… something which had never been much help for _him_ all those years… those long years of being thrown into walls, punched in the face… and the wedgies.

It wasn't as if the general population would have access to the rays… but it was best to be prepared. He kept telling himself that.

…**-…-…-...-…-…-…**

Sally had been waking up early the past few weeks. It began with the dilemma of whether or not to continue with her sector… but that uncomfortable feeling from her last day persisted. After missing a full week of work, she had made the decision to move in with the Hammer Force. There were plenty of rooms and testing out rays wouldn't be an issue.

She watched the plant-camera constantly. Horrible had been staying inside lately and he was awake long past the hours the majority of L.A. kept. Even doctors of the medical variety could sleep regularly thanks to everything the Labs had come up with…

There were thoughts Sally could have thought, perhaps tainted by the reemergence of guilt, but a voice in her head prevented that.

"_Morning, all. Feeling able to take on the world today?_" A laugh. "_Nah. We've got time for that. Oh! Good news!_ _My most recent experiment is finally done. Well, not completely done, but the hard part is. Anyway, I'll be out today… gotta run as many fans in the lab as possible. Apparently messing with time creates a certain… patchouli-like odor. Yeah…"_

When the message finished, Sally, already dressed in her costume, slipped on a matching red trench coat to hide any tell-tale signs of a superhero.

The ray-gun she finally chose was a dematerializer, something similar to what had been used on Johnny. It was fitting (_and painless_). She jammed the gun into her boot and headed for the ladder.

Her car was in a parking garage and the call device to alert her back-up was in the glove department of said car. Sure, she could have just woken everyone up, but that method lacked the grandiose… thing… of an alarm calling the heroes to action.

She didn't hit the button until parked outside Duly Park. Though Sally thought, briefly, about calling Hammer with her location, the alert had a signal. They could track her. Probably.

Sally took a seat on her regular bench and waited for a Horrible-less half hour. Just outside the gates, a crowd had gathered. People were chattering happily and the doctor was probably in the middle of that mini-mob, laughing along with them.

But they weren't _actually_ laughing; Sally had to keep telling herself that. They were brain-washed. Their free-will had been sucked out through their ears and was replaced with shiny pieces of plastic and wires. They had very little to worry about, very little ever think to worry about. And even though all of the above was true, they were _happy_. Happy, healthy, and carefree. All of them.

She couldn't do it. He was every single awful thing warranting a death sentence, but she just couldn't do it. Maybe she was just as brain-washed as the rest of the city, maybe more so.

After all, how many other L.A. residents had watched Dr. Horrible's blog before his take-over? And how many spied on him afterwards? And paid for sciencey cupcakes? And was it _really_ just coincidence that she happened to have a red trench coat?

Maybe her back-up was already hiding behind the trees. Maybe they weren't. Maybe whatever would happen, would happen… and maybe (maybe, _maybe_) it wouldn't be her fault.

What did she want to happen? What would she be able to live with? On whose side did she stand?

Sally wasn't sure.

When she looked up again, the crowd had dispersed and Dr. Horrible was standing in front of her, looking anything but horrible. There was no lab coat, no goggles—just a blue-gray hoody and ratty old jeans.

"…Where's your red coat?"

He blinked. "You see, when past and present are forced to coexist, there's this smell…" The girl on the bench was kind of smiling and tapping at her head. "Right, I already mentioned that and…" And then it hit him, just who he was talking to. His brow furrowed as he moved closer. "Hey, … umm, it's… you. What happened to your hair?"

"My…" Her hands flew to her head. No wig. She glanced from side to side. No contacts either. "…Oh. Yeah… that…" The nagging guilt then took hold of her vocal cords. "…I'm a hero…"

The doctor just stared. "Wha—?"

Sally got to her feet and unbuttoned her coat, pointing to the rose emblem on her chest. "One of 'The Weenies'… Rose Red… I…" Coherency faded away and the guilt was replaced with a very heavy sensation of _whoops_. There had been _no_ reason to divulge that information. _None_. So why did it feel so necessary? "I was waiting for you. I just needed to tell you that I—"

"It's okay," the doctor blurted out. He pulled a list from the pocket of his hoody, reading the names hurriedly. "CaptainCorn-CaptainHammer-Elementia-DangerDude." He sighed shakily. "It's okay." Calmer this time. "You're not on here… Just take off the costume, but—no, I mean, not _now_. Later, err…" His eyes fell to her boots and locked onto something kind of… out-of-place. "What's that?" He nodded towards her shoes.

Rose Red was, for a moment, confused. "What's…" She followed his eyes. "Oh! That's—" The feeling that came along with fading confusion was fantastic, even if another feeling was underneath… a feeling that maybe she should stop to think. But her actions traveled faster than her thoughts and with an almost relieved smile, she reached down and pulled the ray gun free. "—nothing."

She didn't realize what had happened at first, but the doctor's face had changed. Subtle shock, not really fear. Her eyes shot down the length of her arm and squeezed shut as those thoughts finally caught up with her. Right. There had been a reason for coming to the park. In that instant, Rose Red became very aware of her heartbeat, and of the hot and cold rushing under her skin.

The doctor's shoulders fell and there was a look like flashbulbs in his eyes as gun-toting park-goers swarmed around Rose Red.

"So… you were waiting for me?"

**……………**

**The chapter title is part of a quote from… something. Can anyone out there finish the quote? You'll win a fabulous prize (probably just the word "Congratulations!"). **

**Also, this story can, and **_**probably **_**will be finished in 2 – 3 chapters, depending on what direction I decide to take something. Lots of stuff to go down in little time. xD**


	11. A Two Sided Coin

**Chapter Eleven: A Two-Sided Coin**

_(The following moment…)_

**………………****.**

The faces weren't familiar. Rose Red had expected her back-up, but when the first hand fell and tightened on her arm, she knew otherwise. She twisted out of the grip and jabbed her gun into the gut of the nearest person: her attacker.... or well, grabber. An image flashed in the back of her brain and for a fraction of a millisecond, pulling the trigger seemed a very natural action.

She dropped the gun instead, as the man doubled over, and made a run for the gate before the others closed in. Her hope was to be just a little faster.

No such luck.

In a breathless blur, she was disarmed, restrained, and thoroughly surrounded. But regardless of ten-plus guns aimed at her, there was no blaze of light, no sudden death. Those around her were motionless, all staring in the same direction. And she realized with a sinking horror that they were waiting for an order.

She looked up and even without the lab coat and goggles, Rose Red could recognize the face from the tabloids those years ago—the man who sang of no mercy.

_It's gonna be bloody…_

"Billy_…?_"

The heroine caught the villain's gaze and nothing changed.

The doctor nodded coldly to his minions. "Take her away. T-Zero."

Rose let herself be pulled away, cuffed, and loaded into a van. Crammed into the small space were other members of the Hammer Force, including Captain Corn who, judging by his captive state, probably didn't have eye lasers after all.

…**-…-…-...-…-…-…**

She was taken to a cell occupied by three other probably-heroes, none of whom she recognized.

Seeing Rose Red, a short woman with pink hair hopped to her feet. "Oh! Escape-time!"

"Really? Already...? That was..." She was quickly interrupted.

"Our rescuer! Lead us to our grand escape!" exclaimed a man with rather frizzled hair.

Rose Red frowned. "Uh... Huh?"

Another man, hunkered into the corner, glowered. "We were put in here for our own good by the great Doctor Horrible."

"That's The Iron Skillet. Just ignore him," piped the woman cheerily. "He's going through a trial. It'll wear off soon. Anyway, I'm Rabbit's Foot, over there is Other Einstein. We get two meals a day and about our escape…"

So... There was no planned escape. Of course. "I'm in here too, aren't I?" hissed Rose Red.

"So… you're not here to rescue us? I'm pretty sure you're supposed to rescue us… If you don't, who will?" asked Other Einstein.

"No one," replied Rose curtly.

Rabbit patted Rose's back. "Well aren't we a sourpuss?"

"More like a sour flower," noted Einstein, gesturing to the newly-incarcerated's shirt.

They laughed, and Rose Red couldn't help but feel that Dr. Horrible had been right about at least one thing: the heroes who chose to stay were morons.

…**-…-…-...-…-…-…**

At that moment, Moist was leading a young scientist through the many halls of The Basement, explaining the duties of the lowest level of Horrible Labs.

He paused outside the cells. "And this… is where we keep our human specimens, mostly captured heroes and whatnot. They're given threat tiers: zero through three based on, well, level of threat. Levels one through three are assigned to trials pretty randomly, you know, to keep the experiments unbiased, but we generally put T-Zeros in the control group."

The scientist smirked at this. "Pretty merciful for a villain-run organization."

"Doc. thought we oughtta draw the line somewhere." He shrugged and moved on.

…**-…-…-...-…-…-…**

When was the last time someone had spoken his name? His actual, non-villain name, that is… It was a little strange and plenty unnerving, but that was all well and dandy because the world was still turning and everything was fine. Or it would be, once Dr. Horrible got his hands on it.

There was still much to be done. In fact, there was _always_ much to be done. The amount of _to be done_ increased exponentially with time.

Billy snuggled into his oversized chair and awaited inspiration. Or an idea. Or a thought, preferably of the warm and fuzzy variety.

Bazooka Joe bubblegum, relativity, penguins in suits, quantum mechanics, _Me: zero, Big bad world: one_…

Nope. None felt particularly fuzzy at the moment. His mind wandered.

Recent events took the number of turned implanteds to an even thirty, at least by the Labs' count. It was a small number, less than a hundredth of a percent. That was a good thing. A very good thing. It was still a non-zero number, most certainly, but a small number… and a good number. A very good number…

The phone rang and Billy grabbed for it immediately. "Moist!"

"_Yeah. Hey, you doin' alright? I was kinda worried..._"

"I'm fine. Wait, you were worried? About what?"

"_Well, I woke up feeling weird… Like, fight-ready weird. It was pretty awesome, actually. But that's not the point. There was some strange activity at the labs, and there were these camera things, and then we picked up this signal…It's a good thing I sent out the troops, so to speak, huh? I mean, this is the biggest lot we've brought in for some time."_

"Oh. Yeah." A pause. "Thanks for that."

"_I guess it all worked out for the best, though. New test-subjects, not exactly a bad thing at the Lab…"_

Right. Not exactly bad… Even if those people _were_ better off dead.

Billy said nothing and Moist continued.

"_About that. There's two months left and we could still use your help down here…"_

Rogue superheroes and side-switchers aside, Billy had the city… but he needed the world. "I'll be there by seven."

So, that evening, Billy gathered his coat and a few supplies before leaving for Horrible Labs. He programmed his cell phone to be able to contact the implants remotely and left just after five.

The building had small apartments for the more dedicated employees, so there would be no need to run back and forth. Doing such would be a waste of time, and time was beginning to feel increasingly important.

Most of the more world-domination-pertinent work was conducted in the basement—variants of chemical mind control would be necessary for such a large-scale project… or maybe a signal of sorts would work better. Mere mental suggestion wouldn't be enough; a short-term fix would be necessary before the long-term solution. People were going to be against him—lots of people, and no twisted, League-backed law would be there to help him.

It was cold down there, so Billy made use of the grass-stain removal wing and donned his newly cleaned coat.

Things progressed slowly, but they did progress. Dr. Horrible avoided the cell hall, and hummed loudly whenever he was near that heavy metal door.

And maybe it was just a quirk of fate, a painfully ironic curve which was bound to bend into the road of a supervillain, but only two days after Billy walked out his front door, Penny appeared on one screen amongst many, in the sleepy glow of the surveillance room.

**………………****.**

**That sentence was a lil' long for my taste. Ah well. Anyone see any similarities between this and the dream sequence of ch. 6? Also... why do I only edit AFTER I post? Sigh...  
**

**I'm becoming very confused on which name (real/costume) to use. What are they wearing? But what do the characters around know them as? Gah! **

**Also, the 'Me zero' thing is a Jonathan Coulton song. **


	12. Status Quo Ante

**Chapter Twelve: Status Quo Ante**

**………**

The Laundromat was not-quite busy and two frozen yogurts—one partially eaten, the other untouched—were in the early stages of melting.

"…_Yas yeht os, gnidne yppah on s'ereht_…"

And then it happened. There was a lurching feeling in Penny's stomach, as though, for a moment, things had stopped… or changed… she wasn't quite sure.

"_There's no…_"

Penny stopped there. "Déjà vu," she muttered under her breath, before something in the corner of the room caught her eye. It shimmered.

She hopped off of the partition and tip-toed the five meters separating her from the shimmery-thing.

And approximately two months later, relative to anyone on the other side of the portal, Penny reached out to touch that strange bit of space.

_(December 21, 2012; 9:30 AM)_

There was a moment of breathlessness, rushing and spinning until her inner workings caught up and made sense of where she stood.

She was in the Coin Wash.

Still.

But it was empty. The laundry machines were suddenly neither washing nor drying. And a camera was floating inches from her face. There was a large, suspicious-looking device a few feet away, just sitting there. Penny glanced around the room. Still no one… which was strange. Superscientists rarely left their inventions unattended. Someone could get hurt, or shrunk, and then stepped on… which was, again, hurt.

She wanted to push buttons, or maybe to kick the machine in, but preferred the option of not dying young.

Instead, she went to the door, and found it locked, which was also strange. Penny shrugged it off, turned the lock, and stepped out into a brand new world.

_(December 21, 2012; 9:45 AM)_

The Groupies all sat around the table, watching Captain Hammer with rapt attention. Captain Hammer, on the other hand, was eyeing himself in a mirror. "Man, I'm pretty!"

Groupie Two nodded before speaking. "We're going ahead with the plan?"

Hammer grinned down at the little group, all that remained of the Hammer Force. "Of course. Those evil guys have no clue what's happening. In fact, I'm pretty sure those ole baddies still think we're playing chess. Checkers is better. Fewer horsie… things. But enough about that, there are lives to save!" A pause. "You guys stay here, though."

_(December 21, 2012; 9:57 AM)_

Dr. Horrible spent that morning the way he spent every morning: working the hours away. Within his two months at the lab, he had developed methods of causing immediate severe muscle atrophy in superheroes and a signal which would travel through televisions, creating a legion of instant followers. Some tests resulted in loss of consciousness, but he'd come up with a fix for that soon enough.

The city had taken a turn for the better… or maybe the worse, depending on just who was doing the phrasing. His ultimate plan had been written up and sent in to the League.

The signal would be sent out when the walls fell. Implants would be provided within the following week, beginning with world leaders. The revolt-impulse-detecting-and-destroying drug had been perfected and would be released into the water supply of major cities within a month.

Plenty had been completed, and the doctor almost felt he could rest easy.

Because this was what he wanted.

What he really, _really_ wanted.

The world would be his.

And he was so very,

Excruciatingly

Giddy.

.

_(December 21, 2012; 10:09 AM)_

Things had a way of falling into place, even in a holding cell. The trials weren't so bad, or at least, she seemed to be getting the lesser of the evils. Her cellmates were, if nothing else, capable of passing the time. They often plotted schemes to escape and put on short skits of their past heroics.

Other Einstein had developed a giant robot monkey, capable of eating robot bananas.

Rabbit's Foot had once saved a child from said robot monkey.

The Iron Skillet had smacked Dead Bowie with an iron skillet.

Rose Red wasn't quite sure what she had done.

Saved the world? Failed to save it? Was the most evil_ truly_ done by those who never chose a side?

Probably not. Besides, it was too early to worry about morals and her duties as a hero.

So she stopped worrying.

.

_(December 21, 2012; 10:30 AM)_

The city streets were as empty as the Coin Wash, but in a somehow less lonely way. The stores all seemed unused, but there were notes in the windows of many, quick scribbles about ice cream and new mornings, things which, for whatever reason, the storeowners felt were important to write and display.

Stranger still was the Caring Hands homeless shelter. It too was empty. Peering through the window, Penny could see no one inside… or outside, for that matter.

There were no cots in alleyways or discarded bottles broken to dangerous bits. Everything was clean.

A blank slate.

As Penny walked, she soon found herself humming. Big band music was playing in Duly Park, and a dozen or so people were gathered around a booth which simply read Coffee Day. Others were dancing, spinning and dipping, feet keeping time with the music.

The thought crossed her mind to join in the celebrations. But she kept on walking instead, until something caught her eye and another tally-mark was added to the strange count.

Billboards.

But these billboards weren't your run-of-the-mill _Buy Beer _or _Watch This Guy Do This Thing_ billboards. No, they proudly proclaimed _New World Order!_. Many had counters. In less than an hour… something would happen.

Penny moved forward with wide eyes, until she walked into something wide and dark. And familiar.

"Captain Hammer!" she gasped.

"Ghost!" He reeled back, hands out in self-defense mode.

"Huh?"

His hands fell to his sides. "Penny, well… how 'bout that?" He patted her shoulder and sighed in relief. Definitely not a ghost. That was good.

"I—… What's going on here?"

"Lotsa stuff. Bad stuff. Stuff needing The Hammer." He arched an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, _a_ Hammer. But that's not important. How'd you get here?"

"The Laundromat… I was just at the Laundromat, waiting for… my laundry."

Hammer glanced up at the nearest counter and shrugged. "We got time. Let us away!"

"Wait…away?"

"There are laundry mysteries to solve!"

They were soon standing inside the Coin Wash. Penny was gesturing towards a wall or something. It was some sort of portal. Hammer wasn't exactly paying attention; his mind was pondering a more important conundrum. Just how was he to handle his dead-not-ghost ex-girlfriend? She didn't belong here. Or maybe she did.

Or maybe she didn't.

There was a shimmery-swirly vortex thing, and a big piece of science making it tick. In fact, Rosey had mentioned Doctor Horrible's past portal… and it all made sense, didn't it? How cute…

But just what to do…

It was then that brilliance struck the hero. If she were to be sent back in time, his past self might just get lucky… again… which would be like _him_ getting lucky at the same time.

Hammer nodded to himself. "Nice."

"Whuh…?"

And with that, Captain Hammer pushed Penny through the portal and smashed the machine in. There were sparks and then, the portal was gone.

"And now," Hammer declared to the empty room, "to regain my glory!"

_(December 21, 2012; 10:55 AM)_

A climatic musical intro rolled through the room.

"Gee, Boss. What're we gonna do t'day?"

"Same thing we do every day, Moist." Dr. Horrible raised both his fist and his voice. "Try to take over the world!"

Moist sighed. "Okay. Happy? We did the cartoon-mouse thing."

"Yeah, but you didn't have the accent quite right. Or the quote. And there's a whole song after that."

"We could try again?" He didn't sound exactly thrilled at the notion.

"No, no. It's fine. Just… we're gonna need a theme song. And maybe a catch phrase."

"Not this again."

"_To prove their mousey worth! They'll overthrow the Earth! _… I mean, that's catchy. How will we ever top that?_"_

"You're in a good mood…"

"Why wouldn't I be? This is what I've been working for!"

"Shouldn't you, y'know, be doing the talking-to-the-people thing?"

Horrible laughed. "Right. Business and seriousness." He cleared his throat and pulled out his cell phone, activating the audio portion of the implants. "Attention, citizens of Los Angeles. You are to report to The Wall _now_. There are plenty of ways this can play out… Be prepared for them all. Everything's been going our way. Let's not have that change now." He turned off the phone, tossed it on a couch, and started scratching at his back.

Moist stared.

"Something… itchy… pokey…"

"Some evil overlord you're gonna be," scoffed Moist. "Defeated by a tag. And if the heroes find out…" He snorted.

"It's _not_ a tag. What sort of tag is that low down?" Dr. Horrible unbuttoned and twisted out of his coat.

Feeling along the lining, he found there was a pocket in the back, with a piece of stiff paper sticking out.

He plucked the paper from the pocket, except it wasn't paper… well, not _just_ paper. His coat fell.

The paper… was a photo. The colors were bleeding out and it was Penny, because it had to be Penny, because it was always Penny who had to be set on the back-burner when there was science to be done.

Because that was just how the world, _his world_, worked. It was, for him, an unfair, splintery place (and was all the more exciting for it).

Besides, the other side of the portal was bound to have slowed to the point where he'd be able to walk in and out fast enough to never be noticed (as long as he took his anti-relativity pill, of course). Get Penny and get out. So it was probably fine. If no one fiddled with anything, it would be okay. And he could go on holding the pieces together, as though nothing had changed.

"Gotta go," Billy muttered, leaving his coat where it had fallen as he hurried out the door.

_(December 21, 2012; 10:59 AM)_

The Groupies simultaneously glanced towards a Sylvester Cat clock which was nailed to the wall.

Time for action.

They got to their feet and unlocked the Ham Jet's hangar. The city's surveillance system was playing a loop and the majority of the population would be at the Wall. No one would notice a jet speeding down the street, or above it.

_(December 21, 2012; 11:02 AM)_

The lock was far from complicated and as the villain's door creaked open, the Groupies breathed in deep.

The house was quiet, save for the soft, steady humming of electricity. They waited for the presence of evil, for a net to fall or for a wicked laugh to echo from some hidden corridor.

But there was only that humming… so they continued with their mission.

Hallways were long and there were doors aplenty, but the surveillance room was far from hidden. Groupie One stepped in the entrance and automatically hopped back. Nothing happened. Groupies One and Three stepped around the small room, eyeing the levels of screens.

Groupie Two took a seat at the computer. "Not even password protected," she said with a smirk.

"Everyone here follows him, the fools. Not much reason to hide," muttered G-One.

G-Two fiddled through programs until she found what he was looking for. "Still, you'd think he might have a little sense." She spun the webcam around to face the wall.

G-Three watched one screen in particular, which focused on one small section of the Wall. A crowd had gathered, all in long red coats, probably with concealed weapons. They stood at attention, unmoving and unspeaking. It was altogether frightening and awe-inspiring. "What's going to happen to those people?"

G-Two sighed as the words _audio_ and _visual_ turned from red to green. "C'mon. We're done here. Let's get moving."

_(December 21, 2012; 11:05 AM)_

Rose Red was pacing her cell, trying to ignore the feeling that she should be at the Wall... that is, until something more troubling struck her. There was click, then a voice… but it wasn't the Doctor's... and there were quick footfalls. And then, quiet with an undertone of electrical humming.

But that was not what bothered Rose Red. No. What was particularly bothersome was the fact that her vision had shocked to white.

Rose Red backed into a wall and let herself slide down it. This wasn't right... but something deeply imprinted in her subconscious told her to sit very still and await further instruction. So she did.

Her cellmates kept a safe distance.

"Is she alright?" whispered Rabbit's Foot.

Other Einstein just shrugged and approached the bars, as if he had heard something. "Look... LOOK!" He gestured wildly.

Captain Hammer was skipping down the final stair, swinging a ring of keys around his index finger. "What do we have here? Looks like some folks in need of saving!"

The room erupted in cheer, and those who were able rushed to their cell doors, screaming and clapping.

"Now, now… No more cheering. Some of you deserve credit as well…" He paused. "What am I saying? More cheering!"

He walked down the rows of cells, unlocking doors as he went. "Those of you with crazy cellmates… try to get them moving. C'mon, c'mon, now, now now, now—_move_!"

Rose felt hands grab her arms and pull her up, tugging her to move. She followed their lead. Anywhere had to be better than death-row-experiment-land.

Hammer rushed to the head of the line and urged the rest to pick up the pace; there was no time to waste. It was time for good to conquer evil, because that's how all worthwhile stories end.

They ran past blank-staring guards and blank-staring scientists and boarded the Ham Jet, which had been conveniently parked outside of the Labs. The Groupies were standing around the Captain's seat, smiling passively as Hammer pulled them aside. "Good work… Now when we land outside… You know what to tell the press."

"We were trapped. You saved us," they piped.

"And what role did you play in the rescue?"

They all blinked. "Role? Captain Hammer saved us."

Hammer grinned and gestured for them to move aside. "Get ready for countdown!" he shouted as he took the controls.

Rose Red could feel the craft accelerating, building momentum until the wheels left the tar. She leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes…

…and hoped there would be ice cream where she was going.

_(December 21, 2012; 11:10:50 AM)_

It would have been a long run, had Billy chosen to run… but he walked, so it took longer. Three-quarters of the way to the Laundromat, the doctor stopped to watch a counter. Ten seconds…

He wanted to count down with his people, and patted along his pants. No cell phone. There were public phones, but he wouldn't have time to rig up a connection to the implants. Maybe if he called Moist… but there wasn't time, and he couldn't exactly remember the Lab's number.

Oh well…

"Five!" he announced to the quiet streets.

_Aren't you going to be the knight in shining armor?_

"Four!"

_What about Penny? Or those screaming walls… It was… no? Nonono... No._

"Three!"

_New world order… Everything, everything, everything you ever…_

"Two!"

_Cash… fame… change…; cash-fame-change…(it's-cold-down-here)_

"One…"

Confetti shot from those billboards as a whirring sounded overhead. A sudden brightness caught Billy's eyes and he tilted his chin back to a gleam of metal, which quickly shadowed the morning sun. The whirring became very loud then and the sky was soon blotted and speckled by aircrafts.

Had he planned for this? He couldn't remember… he should have planned for this. There were a few people still at the lab. And wasn't there a plan for this?

Many, many things stopped mattering then. His thoughts—excitement, guilt, fear—all crashed into a central point, summed up by two words which fell flat on that would-be bright December day.

"Oh, shit…"

**……………………****..**

**And we're done! YAY! Or maybe boo… Or maybe kerSPLODE. Ah well. ((shakes head at self)) But I finished it before the end of August, which is good because I won't have my own computer in college, and I hate writing with people watching me … Anyway, does anyone have any questions? Comments? Concerns? Did anything not make sense? Now's the time to ask! And yes, Penny's storyline was very anticlimactic. So was Sally's. I know. xD**

**A few things… Not sure if it was made clear (I thought it was but…) Sally was Dead-Not-Sleeping. Why? Because someone asking if "she even knows you're alive" sounds a wee bit jealous to me. Heh. Also, I obviously love cartoons, but I don't own them. And why this ending, you ask? Well, while writing the very first chapter, I thought to myself "So… he can deafen and blind everyone in a city with a couple buttons on a computer… That's stupid. Really… just plain stupid." So… yeah.**

**Also-also, I might post a short epilogue, which would tie up no loose ends… Anyone object to that?**

**Thanks for reading/reviewing/faving/enjoying! **

**Peace!**

…**but not literally.**

**Y'know what? Screw it! Literally!**

**I meant the peace part, not the…**

**Ugh. **


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue: History Repeats**

There were sounds of the faraway, but all-to-close destruction variety, and then, those sounds were gone. The technology keeping her eyes and ears connected to that room in Los Angeles was probably gone too. She chose not to consider what else was gone.

The plane landed not long after, and she was greeted by flashbulbs…

…which was a little ironic.

Interviews followed. And tests. They checked her vitals, her mental status, and her ability to determine an apple from an orange.

She passed with flying colors and began the process of "re-acclimating" into society.

For a few months, she had felt certain she could still hear the doctor's voice speaking through her implants, despite the fact that they had been removed. She would wake up to a faint '_good _morning'and look for a ray gun or a red trench coat, ready to follow an order.

Go to Wall. Fight. Win.

But the voice faded with ongoing therapies, and Sally moved to Iowa.

A year after the city fell, things finally felt normal again. The coverage of Good's triumph over Evil had died down… and Captain Hammer had his own television show. Sally wasn't quite sure what it was about; she chose not to watch, though the commercials suggested juggling and astronaut suits were involved...

She worked as a teacher, and would occasionally construct circuits and burn children's old homework assignments with a tesla coil. They thought she was brilliant and she felt no moral ambiguity.

The job, the life, and the normality of everything was comforting, but she still found herself thinking of the countless ways things could have worked out differently… But maybe fate played a role; maybe all roads led to the same destination. And that was comforting too, the thought that no matter what could have been changed, the end result would always be the same.

………………………………….

One year ago (and simultaneously longer than one year ago), Penny pushed herself off of the floor of the Coin Wash and stared, head tilted, at the patch of space which had, however long ago, shimmered. She felt the air and felt along the wall.

Nothing.

The Laundromat had reverted to its "normal", busy self. Her clothes were spinning in a dryer. Captain Hammer's street clothes—pale blue button-ups and such—were in the machine beside hers. People were busy folding clothes, washing, and drying—normal laundry behaviors. One woman, with light brown hair and sunglasses, was humming along with her iPod through bites of a lemon cupcake.

And no one seemed to notice that the red-head had just apparated out of the future.

Huh.

Penny rocked back on her heels and felt the urge to buy something frozen. Or, more specifically, to buy two plain frozen yogurts and finish her song. Because history repeats.

But she didn't do that.

Instead, Penny bought two jumbo strawberry sorbets and walked, with the occasional skip, to the wall of dryers. Humming, she opened Hammer's machine flung the contents of one sorbet cup onto his clothing. She swung the door closed and the garments tumbled and stained.

"_Stop pretending_," she sang with vehemence. "_Take the chance to build a brand new day!_"

Penny smiled a wry little smile as she swallowed a spoonful of sorbet.

Because history repeats.

…except when it doesn't.

**……………………………………**

**Remember how Felicia Day was in a Cheetos commercial once? xD Yes. That's where this ending came from. Also, for Penny to not have yet purchased her frozen yogurts in this chapter, assume the portal was still rewinding before she was pushed back in? … ((shrugs)) **


End file.
